Calibration Post 1, "Daytime"

[thespaceopera]

[ Not long after the shuffle, there's a ripple of static over the network - loud, sudden, and seemingly with no origin. It's puzzling, but there's no indication that it's going to happen again...

Until a minute later. Another surge of static comes in over the speakers, and then a voice - one some may find familiar, though not necessarily welcome, after all of this time... It's Diamond. Long time no speak, hmm?

Clearly, not all is well. She sounds very far away, for one. For another, she sounds... skeptical, almost alarmed. There may actually be real concern in her voice. ]

Again? Twice in one c--

[ Her sentence is cut short with a strangled gasp, followed by a moment of silence. What follows may be the sound of metal dragged across metal, but it's hard to place. When she speaks again, it's uncharacteristically monotonous. ]

... Bring them in.

[ A blip of lost time passes right after those words, before every passenger mysteriously wakes alone in their own unfamiliar room. The style of decor resembles that of the Marsiva's Hospitality Deck, if any passengers should remember what that's like. It sounds and smells the same as the host ship as well, all clean and chrome, but this set of rooms has only been used once, and for the very same purpose that befalls the fleet contestants now.

As for their hosts, there is no immediate sign of them, though some may recall a series of hideous, half-electronic screams before their memories begin to blur upon arrival...

Welcome back to the Marsiva, dear passengers. It's time for round two of calibrations. ]

[ This mingle will cover all non-calibration room interactions. Please continue to come back to it for the duration of the plot! You are, of course, free to post any other mingles/posts/etc. that you'd like. ]

Comments

[torsion]

[ Not terribly long, as of this moment. Enough that she felt comfortable indulging in the offered equipment, but not enough that she's not trying to work off that edge. It still prickles around her periphery, her alertness high.

She tries not to look surprised over his appearance, but her eyebrows still raise. Different, but not something she thinks she has to worry about. She's on a treadmill in outer space, people are bound to look different and not be on the verge of evolving into something much darker. In response, she puts the speed down one, but the incline up one -- just enough that she can catch her breath and be a better conversationalist. ]

Well, hello to you, too. [ She does manage a vague wave, hand up, knuckles curved rather than a proper one. ] Try to be. Part of my job. You let yourself get soft, you let yourself be taken advantage of.

[ There's a moment before she gets into a lighter pace and her voice comes more steadily. It's obvious she is used to running and talking at the same time. ]

Can't say I'm much of a warrior, but I don't mind a good fight. [ That's when she turns the machine off, and half leans into the front side of it, holding out a slightly clammy hand, even though it's still gloved. The other goes for her identification, stating she's with the Biohazard Security Assessment Alliance, her full name, ID number, and clearance level -- which she holds out, as well. ] I'm Jill.

[sonof_mogh]

Then, we are of the same you and I. Fighting and battles are in my blood and who I am and have come from.

[He's a Klingon; a fierce warrior who revels in the glory of the fight and battle. If he dies in battle it's considered the highest honour in Klingon society.]

BSAA? Are they who you work for?

[He's never heard of them, yet that's probably not surprising, since there are so many different people aboard the ships. He noticed the hand and shook it. Worf rarely engaged in the human art of hand shaking but did not want to appear rude so did it.]

I am Worf, son of Mogh.

[torsion]

Not really in my blood, my parents are pretty average folk. I chose this life for myself, though.

[ But to her, it's also where she comes from. From start to finish, her life began anew in Raccoon City and it had spurred on the person that she became. She might have settled into a beat cop by now if things had run smoothly. She keeps her eyes to his, though, polite as possible while wiping at her forehead with the back of a hand. ]

Got it in one, pal. We're an anti-bioterrorism group and I'm a special ops agent. [ It's one way to get people to hopefully talk to her. People tend to trust cops and the military, though she figures he's got that down-pat on his own end. But she smiles a little more widely to the handshake, though her own is a little more of a hold than shake. ] Jill Valentine, then. Just Worf alright by you? Haven't been here too long and I don't want to step on any toes. First time in space and all.

[ With that, she finally removes herself from the machine, losing a bit of height alongside it. She strolls across the room to grab her baseball cap and fix it on straight. ]

[sonof_mogh]

[Anti-bioterrorism? It sounded like quite the job. Worf was quite impressed with the title, since terrorists were the worst kind of coward. People who fought in the shadow and hid behind a web of deceit were cowards. Dishonourable.]

Yes. Everyone just calls me by my first name, except other Klingons.

[There was a lot of protocol concerning names, usually a family thing.]

I am a new arrival also and am finding my way around this vessel. This is your first time in space?

[Wow, must be tough for her. Worf was practically in space most of his life, ever since he joined Starfleet all those years ago.]

[torsion]

[ She could agree on that assessment. Although she understood the sentiment behind some of the people in the grey area; radical change could sometimes require radical methods. The only difference was in this situation it got out of hand quickly. Edonia had suffered through this, primarily. Most of the time it was just used for selfish means and to make a very clear statement without regard for the human element that was involved, especially not civilians. ]

I see. Worf it is, then. [ She's not one to complain, really. If someone wanted to call her by surname or call sign then that was perfectly fine by her. ] Guess we're both stuck in this together, huh. As for space, yeah. We don't have anything like -- [ She gestures into a shrug, open palm twisting to indicate she means the expanse of it all. ] -- like this where I'm from. Space travel isn't a thing.

[ It's nauseating, but she tries not to let on about that. ]